


Love, Anthony

by montreal



Category: Doctor Strange (2016), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Angst, Donna Strange Is Alive, F/M, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Inspired by Love Rosie, M/M, Minor Stephen Strange/Original Female Character, Minor Tony Stark/Maya Hansen - Freeform, Oblivious Stephen Strange, Parent Tony Stark, Peter Parker is Tony Stark's Biological Child, Peter Parker is a Sweetheart, Protective Stephen Strange, Romance, Stephen Strange is Whipped, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Tony Stark and Stephen Strange Are the Same Age, Tony Stark and Stephen Strange are Childhood Friends, Tony Stark is Whipped
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-23
Updated: 2020-04-30
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:55:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 16,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23274328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/montreal/pseuds/montreal
Summary: Tony has it all planned. Move to Cambridge with Stephen and study his ass off in the Harvard University, apply for work, get married – with whoever wants to be stuck with his annoying ass – then, have kids.But sometimes, everything doesn’t turn out as what he wants to because the universe loves to fuck him up.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark, Tony Stark/Stephen Strange
Comments: 81
Kudos: 125





	1. Prelude

**Author's Note:**

> Firstly, thank you for Parker and other people who commented on my random AU on Twitter, so here you go. This is my very first StephenTony fic, and as you can see, this fic has no beta. I'll try my best to not make any mistake but if I do, I apologize. Please don't bully me, I am sensitive... and second, as you can see in the tag, this fic is inspired by a movie called Love, Rosie. The whole plot of this fic has the same plot as the movie, but I will definitely change the ending - and yeah, it's a happy ending. (Also, I am working on the tags, it might change and I might add some more in the future.)
> 
> I promise myself to post this after I wrote the second chapter but I was so excited about this so I just gotta post this here and leave for a bit to finish the next chapter. Please, don't forget to comment and give kudos, I love you, guys.

The thing is:

Tony loves Stephen.

Frankly, it’s not a surprise anymore to him. They spent their childhood together, doing almost everything, together, side by side. Some people – usually the adults around town – called them ‘childhood sweethearts’ because wherever Stephen goes, Tony goes, and it made their hearts melt, while the rest of them – mostly their asshole male classmates – said that they were sucking each other’s dick in secret and too shy to admit it (Stephen had punched one of the boys who blurted that). They were in middle school when that happened. Tony had calmed him down while tending his bruises in the school clinic ( _“You know what, Steph, they’re jealous because they don’t have an annoying bestfriend like me, or you, I don’t know, both of us are annoying.”_ )

Throughout those times, all Tony could think was how Stephen’s parents would react. There was a sick feeling growing inside his chest, thinking about how they wouldn’t let him play with him or even contact him anymore. Luckily enough, Beverly and Eugene knew how boys in their schools were, and not freaking out about the whole thing. They even said that it wasn’t his fault and he shouldn’t have apologized about it. It was an accident.

Tony had apologized, anyway.

There were times where his mother – Maria – came to Stephen’s house and had to separate them because they had been locked up inside Stephen’s room for _hours_ talking about... well, anything (mostly something related to science or new weird things Stephen read yesterday on the public library.) Tony loves remembering those. Especially the one where they built forts out of pillows and blankets in Stephen’s room, laying on their sides, chest-to-chest with their faces only centimeters apart. Close enough for Tony to make out every freckle in his bestfriend’s face. And if he’s feeling playful, he would poke every one of them in the process which elicited giggles from Stephen.

Sometimes, when he’s feeling clingy after being screamed at over and over again by his father because he had entered his lab, Tony would cuddle him and Stephen would whisper words of assurance in his ears ( _“when we’re eighteen, we will flee from this place and live together and I will protect you, Anthony, nothing can ever hurt you again,”_ ) until both of them fell asleep.

(Tony treasured that one the most.)

At age fifteen, Tony came out to Stephen about his sexuality. Telling him that he was interested in both male and female, Stephen’s reaction was nothing but supportive – he’d even hugged him for almost a minute, which was _rare_ for a Stephen Strange – but there was an anxious undertone in his voice that made his palms sweaty and chest tingled with anticipation.

Not long after that, Stephen confessed to him about him being bisexual – which turned out to be the reason of that hint of anxiety in his tone when he came out months ago; he too was confused with his sexuality – and that he had come out to his parents too, and they were supportive about it. The brown-eyed boy explained that he did the same too, but his father wasn’t that happy with the news and had decided to beat him up. Tony was lucky enough that Howard didn’t kick him out of the house.

They spent the rest of the day cuddling in Stephen’s bed, Tony’s face in Stephen’s chest, bathing into his warmth and inhaling into his scent while joking about them dating each other’s asses.

(The thought had sent butterfly in his stomach.)

So, yes. Tony loves Stephen Strange.

Like a friend loves a friend, a brother loves a brother.

He just doesn’t realize that his love turns out to be way much deeper and complicated than that.

***

Then, the other thing is:

Stephen will not take him to the dance.

Tony Stark is eighteen years old and yet, he is a weak man. Seeing the look on Stephen’s face, even more with those stunning blue-greenish eyes gleaming under the sun, with the sounds of the waves crashing into each other (and even though the puppy eyes has always been Tony’s trademark, it doesn’t mean Stephen cannot do it) he knows he cannot resist him. Tony has always been a weak man when it comes to Stephen Strange.

So, when earlier Stephen said that the woman from the library – Tony still thinks it’s funny how his devotion to reading books has led him to work there, and yet until now, Stephen keeps telling him that Tony’s the nerd one – had been giving him the signs that she wanted him to take her to the dance, Tony couldn’t help the sting in his chest. But, Tony is also a fool because he tells him to take her while he silently hopes that Stephen won’t do that because he _promised_ to take him and not that woman – which he doesn’t even bother to remember the name.

Turns out, Stephen does the exact opposite of what Tony has been secretly hoping. Probably it has something to do with what Tony says which if he thinks about it now, is quite dumb ( _“Stephen, you need to know that the hottest man in the class, the blond one, Steve, just asked me to the dance. Also, remember the girl from science club, Maya? Yeah, she’s gonna be there too, which is weird since she’s graduated last year, I think she handles the events, I dunno, but anyway, I think she likes me. So, I think I'll be alright, Steph.”_ ) and after that, he goes to her right away because apparently, she’s there with them this whole time, surrounded by her other female friends and some boys with muscular bodies, amazing faces but empty brains. When he turns, his gaze lands on Stephen and the woman who now has her arms around his neck, giggling in high pitch.

He almost gags at the sight.

There’s a bitter in his mouth, and he knows it’s called jealousy. Recalling the memory a little bit, Tony swears he sees something glint inside Stephen’s eyes when he told him about Steve (it’s weird to see how Stephen’s features always hardened every time Tony mentioned his name) asking him to the dance.

(Tony thinks it was heartbreak.)

***

The dance turned out to be fine.

He did dance with Steve, whom Stephen kept his gaze onto throughout the event, especially when the blond put his arms around Tony’s waist. He could practically see the fire burning in those eyes that somehow had turned a shade darker. Tony almost laughed.

So, yeah, it was fine.

Except for the fact that Tony did sleep with the science girl and _might_ have accidentally left the condom inside of her – which is an asshole move ( _“you did what?”_ ) but, again, it was an accident. Thank God, she’s not being hysterical about it and decided to go to the hospital right away. That was the most embarrassing thing Tony had ever done and, Stephen – being an asshole as usual – laughing about it on their way home and keeps joking about how bisexual doesn’t suit him and he should’ve just stay gay.

(Tony agrees.)

***

When Maya comes to his house, telling him that she’s four months pregnant, Tony had just gotten the mail from Harvard University that he got the scholarship. His world feels like crumbling down, each piece rests beside his feet, _mocking_.

The woman in front of him looks guiltier than he is – which confuses him because it’s _his_ fault, not hers. Then, Maya says that she has no motives behind all of this. That she only wants him to know, that she’s keeping it and he doesn’t have to be responsible over this. (Even though, it was his fault.) So that he can live on with his life and go to college just as he planned – because apparently, she knew about him applying to Harvard. (Tony perhaps did tell her about it on the night before the accident happened. Well, he didn’t remember that much. He drank five tequila shots.)

(From what he knew, Maya Hansen doesn’t have any relatives. She lives alone in an apartment near where she works. She has always been alone since her parents died of an accident – she was fifteen – and the landlord pitied her and let her lived in the apartment freely. Remembering this, Tony weighs his option about leaving her and the baby alone, just like what she asked.)

So, Tony agrees, but he is not an asshole.

He doesn’t want the kid to grow up without a dad. There’s a small part of him wanting to prove to Howard that someday he can better father than him – and maybe it’s not the right circumstances but he can try. So, he stays, even though his father isn’t pleased about the news and slaps him so hard he stumbles down to the floor, his mother screams, run as soon as possible and asks him if he’s fine. He’s used to this kind of thing.

Unlike his father, his mother, Maria, is pleased to hear the news and want to see Maya. Tony has to explain the whole ‘we’re not in a relationship, but we’re keeping the baby because she wanted to and I am not an asshole, so I stay to support her’ which confuses her a bit in the beginning but she’s trying her best to understand. Also, the expressions she had when he told him about it really set his heart at calm and funnily enough, he doesn’t care about his father’s opinion.

At least one problem is solved.

***

Stephen doesn’t know.

It’s not like he’s ashamed over the fact that he knocked up a girl he barely knew. It’s more about that if he does tell him about not going to Harvard because he has a kid to take care of, Stephen will do the same thing by forgetting about the scholarship and decides to stay in this town with him, which means that the both of them will be stuck in this town, _forever_.

Although Stephen himself seems like he doesn’t really care about the study ( _“you know that I’ll go wherever you go, Tony.”_ ) he actually does. Tony can see how those stunning eyes sparkled every time they talked about the scholarship – about leaving town – since they were fifteen and still played in their weirdly small but comfortable forts inside Stephen's room and also, Eugene, Stephen's father, will hate him for doing that to his son – people already called him a bad influence to the Stranges household, he doesn’t need another member – and then, Tony will hate himself for that.

Tony had asked Maya to keep it a secret. To not say a word to anyone about the baby being his; that was his only request. And she gladly obliged, because Maya didn’t find the advantages of telling people about it. Even if there were, it would only spread bad rumors and in the end, they would only call her _names._ And she didn’t want that.

They’re _not_ in a relationship and which makes it even weirder... they’re not even friends. Perhaps it’s because Tony cannot stomach another genius besides him. He already has Stephen. And Maya agrees. She too can’t be in the same room with him for more than two hours ( _“shut up, Tony, you’re breathing so loud, I can’t even think!”_ ) because it’ll stress her – and the baby – out to be in an endless argument with him.

So, yes: it _is_ a weird dynamic, but they can make it work.

Months pass by and perhaps, everything will turn out to be fine.

Tony has every single thing planned inside his head. The Harvard’s announcement letter will be up in January and Stephen will get his – of course, he will, Tony _can_ feel it – then, when Stephen goes to Cambridge in February, he’ll go next month. He doesn’t know when exactly but it’s gonna be right before college starts and he’ll tell Stephen that he still has some things to solve so he needs to stay a couple of months.

Because: Tony Stark is not a jerk. He wants to see his kid: his son – yes, a son, Tony’s still has a hard time believing that. He wants to be there at the hospital (unlike his father) and be present for both Maya and his son before he goes for his flight.

He promises to keep in touch and will try his best to visit them every time he has the chance. And about Stephen, he doesn’t know when and how he’ll tell him about it... but, he’ll figure it out. 

So, yes, everything will be fine.

For once, he lets his shoulder slumps and breathes.

***

(Funny, how the universe seems to hate him so much.)

Maya dies right after she gave birth to Peter Benjamin Stark.


	2. Is It Gonna Go Down in Flame?

Stephen clumsily stumbles his way into the cafe, loud enough to attract the attention of the people who sat there peacefully. Some of them stop in the middle of a sentence just to see who dares to interrupt them, while the other has enough balls to shush him up, so sharp and loud that Stephen stops in his track and winces. Mumbling words of apology along the way, he finds Tony sits on the corner of the room, a pout on his face while staring at his drink.

Regardless of what happened earlier, the excitement in his blood still runs strong as he comes near to the table, chest still heaving from the running but now, he’s more in control of his emotion. At the sound of a chair being pulled, Tony wakes up from the haze, blinking several times only to find his bestfriend’s already sitting across him.

The sight itself brings the smile on his face, heart swells with happiness.

With that face, Tony’s certain that Stephen can light up the whole town. It’s a rare occasion to see Stephen Strange smiling from something that isn’t his doing.

“Hey,” he greets enthusiastically. A smile stretches around his mouth so wide that it starts to hurt. “Sorry, I’m late. Gotta help Donna first with her homework, but anyway...”

A folded paper suddenly comes to Tony’s sight: white and apparent to his eyes, covering the blinding smile Stephen has on his face. The paper is rather crumpled on the corner, there’s a small tear on the edge too – a proof that Stephen might’ve opened the letter in a haste. _Clumsy asshole,_ he thinks fondly. It’s not a surprise anymore that it’s the acceptance letter from Harvard University, but Tony acts like he’s oblivious about it, just because he _can._ “What is it?”

“Open it.”

And...

“ _Harvard University!_ ” Tony shouts, uncaring of their surrounding. The pride that enters his chest soars so big, it feels like his chest will burst from it. “You made it, Steph!”

At his reaction, the smile on Stephen’s face gets even wider, turning his cheeks a bit red from the amount of happiness he gets at once. “ _I know!_ ” Stephen sounds equally as happy and excited as he is, the twin dimples that appears on his both cheeks is another proof of that. “Have you gotten yours?”

_Here we go._

The excitement in Tony’s blood dissipates when the question fully registers into his mind.

But he tries to cool his face so the disappointment won’t bleed in his face. He _knows_ he can’t fuck this up for him. After everything they went through, he cannot let Stephen stops on his track and stay with him just because Tony had made a mistake in his own way.

Trying to get a hold on his scrambled emotion, the brown-eyed man takes a sip on his now cold coffee and winces as soon as it touches his tongue, realizing that he’s been ignoring his drink for quite some times. “Nope, but, I know I’ll get it soon,” he shrugs despite the sting and the dark void inside his chest about the reminder of his own letter buried inside Peter’s drawer, hidden under his unimportant stuff. “There’s no way Harvard would refuse to accept my genius ass, Steph. You should be concern about yourself.”

“Douchebag,” Stephen huffs, laughing a bit over the smug smirk on his bestfriend’s face. But then, when his face turns serious, Tony cannot help but notice how his heart drops to his stomach, like a burden, heavy on his shoulder. A small reminder of his absent father and his mother who’s right now busy taking care of his son, Peter, while he’s here: lying to his bestfriend. Kinda explain how much a fuck-up he is. It makes him want to throw up. “But really, Anthony... have you gotten it, yet? At least any information about it?”

Tony pauses at that.

There’s a small part of him wanting to tell Stephen about the whole truth.

About the acceptance letter that has been buried in his drawer for months which had an unremovable smeared ink because he was crying on the bed with the letter right next to his head and how he had folded it, so small until there’s no space left – thinking that it would magically stop him from staring at it for hours. Or about Maya Hansen; the poor woman who he accidentally knocked up on dance night and died months later after giving birth to his son.

About his _son_ , Peter Benjamin Stark.

The baby’s four months old now and he is, honest to God, the cutest baby Tony’d ever met.

He wants to tell Stephen how Peter got Tony’s hazel brown eyes and bow lips. And how his nose reminds him of Stephen’s boopable one. The soft brown curls, too. _God,_ the baby even got the same exact dimples as Stephen. Like a copy of both of them combined into one.

(He could’ve sworn that Peter more reminds him of Stephen rather than Maya Hansen.)

Peter barely fusses, and he only cries when he’s feeling upset since loneliness doesn’t suit him well – that usually happened after Tony put him down on his crib; Peter hates sleeping on his own small bed. That ( _always_ ) ends up with the baby sleeping on top of Tony’s chest the whole night, he _obviously_ can bear with that – well, he had _worse_ before. A stiff back, cramped arms and some light chest pain are nothing compare to what Howard had ever done to a teen Anthony Edward Stark.

Yes, his sleeping schedules are fucked up now because baby tends to wake up at night when they’re thirsty. So does, Peter. And when Peter wakes up, he _cries_ which is not a good combination with Tony’s constant migraine he has every time he’s awake unwillingly, being forced out of the dream state he’s currently in. It’s like his head is giving him the middle finger and curses him, _spits_ him, for having such life.

(But again, Tony had worse before.)

Luckily enough, his mother would help him at times like this. (And Howard hadn't said anything about it, too: that at least had calmed his mind. Because Tony would definitely lose his shit if he dares to raise his voice at his Peter. His _son._ ) His mother usually will have Peter in her arms, embracing him in her motherly warmth and Tony will look at him while has his head rests on his mother’s shoulder, playing peek-a-boo with his son when his cries have died down.

In conclusion, Peter Stark is such a precious baby.

“Actually... no,” Tony replies after a pregnant pause. Bravely, he takes a glance at his bestfriend’s face, expecting the worst. The expression he sees isn’t something unfamiliar for him: a frown etched between the perfect brows, and the plump bottom lip being trapped between his teeth. The gear inside his head is turning and Tony knows from the loosened grip on the letter, Stephen’s thinking about letting go of his perfect opportunity.

His heart hurts.

(Tony cannot fuck this up for him.)

“Well, I—I mean you’ll get it,” Stephen replies, doubt in his tone but certainty is clear in his eyes. When their eyes meet, Stephen feels his heart stutters. At that moment, any doubt in his mind disappears. Anthony Stark _is_ his bestfriend. Of course, he’ll do anything for him and that means if Tony doesn’t go, then, he won’t.

It’s a simple math.

“...and if you don’t, then, I’ll throw away mine and we can apply again together next—”

“ _No, Stephen._ ”

Stephen blinks, startled. A bit offended that his bestfriend doesn’t agree with him. “What? Why? It’s just college.”

“Exactly! _It’s just college._ ” Tony points out as if he doesn’t know that already. Leaning towards him, Tony’s eyes harden with something he never saw before, and Stephen feels himself gulping at the sight. “That’s why you don’t and _won’t_ do that. It’s just college, Stephen! I can go next year and still meet you. We will still live together and stuff. It’s just...” he licks his lips, anticipation comes running high in his blood.

_Here comes the lie._

“...it’s just that I still have something to do... with Howard.” He continues, feeling a little bit choked up.

As what Tony expected: that shuts him up.

When it comes to Howard Stark, it’s something _unchangeable._

Stephen has known the man for such a long time. Although he never actually meets the man himself, only from people’s hushed words and how he carried his self around, Stephen feels like he knows what he’s being faced with the first time he befriended with Tony. 

He had tried before: changing the older man’s mind.

At that time, Stephen Strange was fourteen. His family was planning on having a small vacation and asking if Tony could come along. He was being a stubborn kid just like other kids on his age, persisting so Tony to come with him, that they would have fun playing hide and seek. Maria had agreed to it but Howard had said nothing besides (and Stephen would never forget it till he died): _“Anthony has something important to do than just playing around and wasting his time playing in the dirt.”_

That didn't scare him off. Later, Stephen himself came to Howard again, asking permission, politely.

It was useless. It doesn’t change anything.

(Besides the fact that he almost – keyword: _almost_ – got slapped by him. If it wasn’t because Tony had been there, protecting him.)

Since that, Stephen knows when it comes to Howard: he has reached the line.

“So, you’ll...?” 

Question hanging, leaving the rest of the words unsaid.

At that, Tony sighs. “Honestly, I don’t know. You know my father. But I’ll try, okay?”

“Okay,” Stephen replies weakly, nodding lightly while his fingers keep playing on the corner of the letter. He has no intention of hiding the disappointment in his tone that disappears as soon as his eyes land on Tony’s brown one. Trying to lighten up the mood, Stephen grins. “But would you take me to the airport? Cause apparently my parents won’t since I’m _old enough._ ”

Tony laughs, feeling some of the weight in his chest lifted. “Yeah, whatever you say, asshole.”

***

Time moves so fast.

Yesterday felt like he had just met Stephen Strange for the first time. Dark curly hair covered his forehead, the sun shone on his face, showing off the soft skin with a bit of freckled peppered on his nose and cheeks. Playing hide and seek on the backyard until they’re covered in dirt or talking about the most random things with forts made of blankets above them, protecting them from the bitter reality. Feels like he just had one blink and now, Tony has to say goodbye to him because he’s leaving town – _like he wants to_ – for his dream.

He should feel happy about it because at least one of them successfully will leave this dead-end of a town. But even after seeing the nervous smile Stephen shares to him as they reach the airport, he cannot deny any longer about the deep ache inside his chest. Every time his heart beats, the void gets bigger and will soon enough swallow him in endless pain.

“Okay, so, this is it, Steph,”

Once again, Tony feels small.

And lonely.

Cold, too.

Stephen hugs him before he could even add some jokes in his words.

It feels like they can read each other’s mind, bare, _exposed_ , as if they’re connected. Knowing when and how the other would feel some kind of pain or sudden rush of excitement. Although he must admit that Stephen’s still kind of dumb reading such situation. Wrapped in each other’s arms, they stay like that for almost five minutes – yes, Tony has counted every second of it.

His face’s hiding on the crook of Stephen’s neck, arms tight around his shoulder, feeling content to bask in his warmth despite having to tip-toeing a bit because even after the workouts he had throughout his teen, Stephen would always a bit taller than him, towering his body while making jokes about it. Now, the thought of it, makes him wanna curl into a ball and cry.

Sighing into his hair, Stephen tightens his arms that circled around his waist, suddenly feeling protective and unsatisfied knowing there’s an empty space inside his heart when their chests literally touching. In the end, Stephen only nuzzles defeatedly until his lips rest on Tony’s temple, warm, _branding,_ inhaling into the scent. His cheek tickles when it makes contact with Tony’s curls.

When they decide to give some space for talk, it’s only centimeters apart.

Still close enough for Stephen to see Tony’s long eyelashes flutter on his cheek every time he blinks, hiding those Bambi eyes with his eyelids. The way his eyes shines with unshed tears. The way Tony sighs heavily as if the burden is on his shoulder, making him hard to breathe.

Stephen could kiss him right now.

Voices inside his head scream the worst scenario that could happen, giving him the list of the possibilities of what might have happened to both of them. It’s too risky, he knows. _God,_ he doesn’t even know if the feeling is mutual. He could ruin their years of friendship just because his feeling has turned romantic. Tony could hate him and decide to leave him – just like those dark times before he met him, because apparently, kids his age didn’t wanna hang out with stubborn and arrogant kid like him.

Tony deserves someone better.

He deserves someone who can keep up with his genius mind and annoying ass.

Someone who rolls their eyes when Tony gives them weird pet names and hugs him tight when he starts unconsciously bites his nails, a sign of anxiety and unease flood in his chest. Someone who will drag his ass to bed when he’s still awake past his bedtime. Someone who kisses the tears away every time Tony has his night terrors. Someone who willingly gives their portion of cheeseburger for him since Tony always eats _three_ cheeseburgers – and will not feel satisfied until he does so. Someone who loves him, more than they love themselves.

And that someone isn’t Stephen.

The taste on his tongue feels bitter as he makes up his mind.

(He doesn’t kiss Tony Stark.)

“Keep in touch, okay?”

“Bold of you to think you can get rid of me that easily.” He pulls the corner of his lip into a smile – the sad one.

Stephen huffs fondly, makes Tony grumbles in protest as his breath hits his face. The ache still new and _there_ and Stephen lets it run through as he says, “See you there, Anthony.”

“I’ll miss you, Stephen.”

(Tony savors the moment when Stephen’s lips rest on his forehead.)

And when his bestfriend waves at him, passport in his hand with a smile on his face, Tony welcomes the deep ache behind his ribs like an old friend as his heart breaks, again.

For the second time, Tony lets his heart go.

***

Four months after the moment Tony Stark’s heart broke into pieces, he just realizes that his life is indeed full of surprises.

In those four months, he could say that so far, it was the best time in his life.

Howard had some things to do at work that required him to go somewhere. Tony doesn’t know where he’d gone, doesn’t even bother to ask. Neither his mom. One thing he knew after Peter was born is that his energy runs dry faster than he used to be. So, he decided to do a less unimportant job, such as giving fucks about Howard.

Today, he meets a woman with brown-reddish hair, Pepper (it’s actually Virginia Potts but he somehow finds it more fitting with that name) when he’s trying to find a diaper because turns out they don’t have the usual one.

After a quite long conversation about how properly washing a baby bottle – Tony winces internally, realizing how wrong he was – with Peter on his hip, chewing his shirt and drool dripping over his shoulder, he later finds out that Pepper is the daughter of the owner of the store and apparently has been working there since her mother is currently sick and has to bed-rest at home.

The conversation somehow goes into how Pepper telling him that she used to babysit the neighbor’s kids – two sons, a fifteen-year-old and ten-year-old, and one daughter, four months old – because at that time her parents have no money while she needed to pay her school debt. Which now answered Tony’s questions on how she could know about these detail and important information.

Then, somehow Tony ends up telling her about Peter being his son.

Pepper’s not surprised about it.

She actually give him those looks that make him think she’s amazed by the fact that a nineteen-year-old like him – _or is it twenty? God, he doesn’t even remember his age! Tony really needs to write all of this stuff down before he loses his damn mind_ – can take care of a baby.

(Tony sighs at that. He couldn’t take any more weird glances being thrown at him.)

Only from that one meeting, he can conclude that Pepper Potts is an amazing woman. He can somehow feel that she will definitely keep up with his annoying attitude and won’t make a fuss about it. So, Tony decides to stay in contact just because he realizes how dumb he is when it comes to washing baby bottles... and other baby things.

Just right when he thinks that the universe finally gets tired of playing with him and decides to give him a rest, on his way home, with Peter sleeps fitfully in his strollers and Tony trying his best to not jostle his son into awakeness, he meets the least person he wants to meet...

Victor Strange – Stephen’s annoying younger brother.

Tony convinces himself that: yes, the universe loves to fuck him up.

Honestly, he never exactly prepares himself for such situation.

He never actually thinks about such scenario would happen to him. Perhaps he underestimates Victor Strange, putting him on the back of his mind like it doesn’t mean a thing. Forgetting about how such an _asshole_ he is unlike Donna, who’s an absolute fucking sweetheart. (He has always been preferred Donna than Victor.) If he’d the power to choose, he’d rather meet Eugene than Victor. Although he knows that the old man doesn’t like him, at least he doesn’t _hate_ him.

Meeting Victor Strange isn’t pleasant.

Practically speaking, his life is on the fucking line, hanging on the edge. So yes, he did beg to Victor to not tell Stephen about Peter. While the fucking bitch had the audacity to laugh at him and tell him how pathetic he looks.

“I am asking you this one favor, Victor, _please..._ ” he grits his teeth, hating how helpless he is, “don’t tell your brother...”

Victor laughs maniacally, watching him with smirk planted on his face as if the sight has brought some deep satisfaction inside him. “Here I am thinking that you’re in Harvard with Stephen, but turns out you’re here all these times... being a full-time _dad._ ”

“Don’t say a word to your brother... okay?”

“I’m sorry, Stark. This one? I gotta tell him. You can’t hide forever.” He shrugs and leaves.

(Tony had to take three deep breaths to convince himself that punching him wouldn’t change anything.)

***

It doesn’t surprise him when Stephen shows up in front of his house.

He just doesn’t expect it to be this _fast._ _For the love of God,_ he met Victor two days ago! He can’t meet all the Stranges in one week, can’t he? He needs a break. The one where he rests on the couch with Peter in his lap, munching on his biscuits while watching Star Wars. (He’ll keep that one in mind.)

“So, how’s Harvard?”

Tony asks, cannot help the real curiosity lacing in his tone as Stephen leans his hip on the kitchen counter. Currently, Peter’s sleeping on his father’s messy bed while they are in the kitchen, standing stiffly in their position, just the both of them: Tony and Stephen.

Clearing his throat and says, “ _fine._ ”

It sounds forced and flippant, he winces internally at it. There’s no way denying the pain inside him, rotting and eating him alive. It hurts him to know that Tony refuses to look into his eyes, to even spare him a glance. His friend, Christine, was right: Stephen should’ve thought about this thoroughly first.

He should’ve _known_ , that Victor did this on purpose.

(Stephen thinks it was to break them apart.)

Although he hates to admit it, his brother did _know_ him, at least well enough to know that Tony is Stephen’s weak spot. The second after Victor’s call, telling him that Tony has a son... he _lost_ it.

With no doubt, Stephen asked Christine to cover him up for the next classes ( _“this is important, Christine, please, I don’t care what you’ll do, fake a sick letter or something.”_ ) and bought the earliest flight he could find only to prove that his brother wasn’t lying.

(Victor Strange was anything but a liar.)

If months ago – when both of them were still reckless teenagers – someone had told him that Anthony Edward Stark, his bestfriend (if Stephen dares to say: his _soulmate_ ) had a kid, Stephen would’ve laughed. Literally, would _laugh_ in front of them. All loud laugh and mocking. And perhaps would curse them after, for even saying such things. Because he, Stephen Vincent Strange, knows him better than anyone.

(Or at least, he used to.)

But after all this, he doesn’t know anymore.

He doesn’t know _anything_ anymore.

There’s a silence stretch between them.

Long enough to make Tony bites his nails off till he reaches his fingers and then, makes him go mad from the sound of his own beating heart thumping inside his ears like a drum, loud and punishing.

Tony sighs, not even caring about how vulnerable it sounds. He’s bare, _exposed_. There’s nothing more to cover. “I swear I’m about to tell you, Steph. Remember when we met up at that cafe? I was about to tell you but I—you should’ve looked at your face! You were so happy about the news and I couldn’t ruin that for you,” his voice trembles, “I don’t wanna hold you back.”

Putting the baby bottle back on its place, Stephen lets out a heavy sigh. “I know... thank you,”

His reply has shocked Tony to the core.

Leaving his jaw open as realization settles in him. “What...?”

“I’m sorry, I don’t—I was so mad because I thought I knew you, and I’ve been holding to that thought for years so, it pains me to know that you lied to me, but again,” he pauses, takes his time to step closer to Tony, invading his space, “I never actually see you from your point of view... how hard could it be for you, doing all these alone, and fuck—did Howard _know?_ I swear to God, Tony, if he dares to _fucking touch you and—_ ”

“Okay, tough guy, I get it!” he huffs in amusement at Stephen’s rambling. “You’ll kill my father if he dares to lay a hand on me and Peter, I get it.”

“Peter?”

Tony nods lightly, confirming. Pride settles in his chest. “Peter Benjamin Stark.”

There’s that pause again, filling the space between them, then, Stephen asks: 

“Can I see him?”

The question has startled him, put wonder into his eyes, gleaming, full of hope, reminds him of Tony’s big Bambi eyes. When he looks at Stephen, his eyes land on those brilliant blue-greenish eyes and he smiles.

“Sure.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Got the title from Taylor Swift's Blank Space.
> 
> Because I thought it fits how Tony's life just going up and then down so fast (I'm sorry, darling. You'll get your happy ending soon, I promise.)


	3. The Adventure of Stark-Strange

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, after weeks of deleting and editing and writing, I am able to finish it properly because college is such a pain in the ass. I just want to say: thank you, to all of you who patiently wait for this chapter and keep on supporting me along the way. Second of all, I have never come to England or Harvard or anywhere near it. I wrote this just from my imagination and my wild research on Google so, yeah, don’t judge me.
> 
> Anyway, that’s it! Enjoy!

“You’ve been happy for almost an hour, that’s... somehow concerning,”

Pepper remarks, after observing the man standing next to her since he came down to the shop with a wide smile and happy features on his face despite the dark circles under his eyes, somehow looks like it was framing his mocha eyes, putting it on show. Not like she hates Tony being happy, it’s just concerning to see it after such a busy week he had been through. With all the ‘moving into apartment’ vibes going on and Peter’s birthday next month, Tony had been a mess since.

(The good one, of course.)

“I just notice that you always put the _Sour Cream and Onion_ flavor on the very back,” Tony says, purposefully ignoring her comment as he walks to the cookies aisle, grabbing an _Oreo_ on the way.

The red-haired woman pauses, still holding the blue-colored _Lays_ on her hand. _Salt and Vinegar: the superior one, of course,_ she thinks triumphantly before turning her head to get a full look on her friend. “Tony,” she warns, dipping her head to emphasize it.

A harmless warning, of course.

But it’s Virginia Potts; it’s enough to make the man huffs, knowing that Pepper knows his attempt on getting away from the conversation – which he’s clearly aware will be happening any time soon – and also, the looks on her face absolutely telling him to just surrender ( _“You’re a terrible liar, Stark. Your eyebrows always twitched a bit when you lied.”_ )

“Okay, _okay!_ ” he puts both hands on the air, a surrender motion. As much as he tries to stay in his act, the corner of his lips twitch, turn up into a small smile, “and here I thought we’re friends, Miss Potts...” he replies, faking a disappointed look.

The woman only shakes her head in amusement while Tony already makes his way with the _Oreo_ that is in his hand, munching slowly on it while thinking how to deliver the news without making it too obvious that he’s actually into it, that he’s one-hundred-percent wants to say: _yes_. He wants to make it looks like Stephen’s offer has nothing to do with him being happy since yesterday, or specifically since he got the text.

As if he’s a hard-to-get kind of person.

“Care to share with the class, Mister Stark?”

“Okay, so,” he pauses, carefully leaning his shoulder to the aisle near him before taking a bite on the _Oreo,_ “after many _moons,_ ” Pepper huffs a laugh, “last night, Stephen asked me to pay him a visit...”

It catches her attention. “What?”

“I know!” Tony muffles, trying to not choke on the food that’s still half-munched in his mouth, “but I haven’t replied him though, I’m still doing that thing you asked me, what was it again, uh... _ghosting?_ ”

Dumbfounded, Pepper pauses her hand mid-air, the one with the chips on it and then processes to push the plastic bag of chips on its place roughly. “ _No,_ Tony! Ghosting is for _Steve!_ Not Stephen! I already explained that to you!”

Pepper Potts: knows about everything.

She knows about Maya, about Steve – the blond from high school – and of course, she knows about Tony’s crush on Stephen ( _“you always have this certain smile, almost like a fond, every time I brought up his name, I just knew it right away, you’re too easy to read,”_ ) and although the woman never sees him in real life, she knows that Stephen is the best choice for Tony. Even though, Pepper knows that Stephen already has a girlfriend.

(Tony has silently agreed to that.)

“Well, I mean I already bought a plane ticket to Cambridge... it’s tomorrow... if I’m not wrong,”

“ _What?_ ”

Tony blinks at her, completely lost when the woman only stares at him, dumbstruck.

“Peter will be with my mom. He’s five— _God,_ can you believe he’s _five?_ My baby grows so fast. The next time I blink, he’s already married... anyway, my mom’s okay with it, so, it’s fine...” he shrugs.

At that, the woman huffs tiredly, a hint of disbelief lacing faintly. Doesn’t know if it’s directed for her friend or the stiff muscle in her shoulder. Perhaps both. _Definitely,_ both. Taking on more look at the aisle, she makes a beeline to the medicine aisle, practically dragging her feet.

“Sometimes I don’t know how that brain of yours works,” Pepper sighs exasparatedly, slowing down her pace as she checks every item is in their place. Knowing that Tony follows right behind her, she continues, “you know that you could do that earlier, right? Visit him, I mean. Like, surprise him on his birthday or something?”

“Well, he has a girlfriend and—”

“A girlfriend he never mentioned about,”

“—I don’t wanna make him uncomfortable or something,”

“Seriously, Tony?”

Pepper turns, a frown on her face.

“I just,” he sighs, shoving the last piece of Oreo inside his mouth, chewing on it slowly. His hands find the plastic wrapper more interesting than their topic of conversation, eyes down to the floor. “It’s been a while, ya know. Yes, we did keep our promised to stay in touch, I just—what if I give him a surprise visit and he’s not pleased with it? Like, he’s keeping our relationship because he pities me, who apparently, stuck in this place... I’m just not ready with being rejected, I guess,”

There, her face softens.

Walking up to him slowly, Pepper puts a comforting hand on his shoulder, squeezing the tense muscles. “You’ve been friends with him for years, Tony. Of course, he would be pleased to see you... so, stop mopping around in my store and...” she hands him something, an item being hidden between her right palm and his left one.

When Pepper lifts her hand, she has a knowing smirk on her face.

A condom.

Tony laughs, waving the item carelessly. “I don’t need to pay for this, right?”

She rolls her eyes and throws another box at him.

***

His heart hasn’t stopped jumping in his ribcage.

Since the plane landed, he couldn’t stop jumping on his feet. The attempt to stay calm by biting his bottom lip hasn’t succeeded yet. Wiping his sweaty hands on his jeans, he looks around the port, looking for a familiar face with a tall figure and dark curls. His expectation almost dies out, dropping to his stomach, heavy as his backpack – _God, why did he bring so much stuff, anyway?_ – when he doesn’t find Stephen until someone screams their lungs out. A familiar voice he recognizes.

“ _Anthony!_ ”

At that, Tony whips his head and spots his bestfriend standing with a big bouquet of flowers, waving at him. He never runs so fast in his life until now and when he’s close enough, Tony carelessly drops his heavy backpack and makes a jump at him, latching like a koala. That has caught Stephen off guard but he laughs nonetheless, his right hand instinctively goes to Tony’s thigh to support his body.

Sighing, he whispers, “Stephen,”

His voice sounds muffled apparently because the brown-haired man has buried his face on his favorite spot between Stephen’s neck and shoulder. Suddenly feeling every emotion hits him at once, Tony tightens his hold and sighing at the skin contact, Tony’s cheek to Stephen’s exposed neck-shoulder junction. It still baffles him sometimes that they’re not scared to be intimate, not afraid to admit that both men are touch-starved, always nuzzling into each other’s neck like this, or even kisses each other’s forehead (or temple, or cheeks) as if they’re lovers.

(Somehow, his heart aches from knowing that they’re not lovers.)

Sensing the sadness wavers over their head, filling the gaps between them, Stephen manages a terrible groan and: “God, how much did you eat while I was away?”

Tony looks at him, offended. A playful shove lands on his chest. “ _Excuse me?_ ”

At that, the man has suddenly struggled in Stephen’s arms, purposefully struggling his way out of the tight hold as if he indeed feels offended, but instead of letting him go, Stephen has tightened his arms, the ones that support Tony’s thighs. Laughing, when Tony flinches at the loosened grip, bringing his body even lower than before. “No, no, I’m kidding, Tony— _stop—_ stop wriggling or I’ll drop you to the ground.”

“Might as well, bring you too, then,”

From the look, he’s almost convinced that Tony will do what he said, he huffs. “Okay, how about no.”

Tony whines as the grip under his thighs loosen, his feet touching the ground, still wanting to be held for another five minutes – or maybe more. But eventually, in the end, they separate although, hardly even taking a step back, still pretty much in each other’s space. His sullen mood changes instantly as Stephen gives him the bouquet, a little bit crinkled but still stunning. It makes him giggle delightedly, bringing butterflies in his stomach.

“So, are you hungry? Tired?” Stephen asks, still wearing the same excited smile. The sight has made Tony somehow thinks about dog and Stephen would have his tail wagging happily behind him.

“No... why?” he asks, copying the same smile on his face.

It feels surreal.

Seeing them reunited, knowing that his bestfriend has felt the same longing and pain of missing the other half, has built something closer like hopes and flowers and something pleasant: the one he can metaphorically taste in the center of his tongue, sweet like honey with a hint of citrus, the kind of sour that makes his eyes crinkles in satisfaction, giving him a sense of enjoyment.

(Tony feels like falling in love, all over again.)

Stephen bites his bottom lip, trying to contain his happiness inside the cafe of his chest. “Because I have so many places I want to show you.”

***

Tony loves this.

He definitely pictures everything exactly like this.

Both of them, wandering around freely with Tony’s backpack on Stephen’s shoulder, the bouquet strapped safely on the side of it, carrying it as if it doesn’t weigh anything while watching Tony’s that somehow already five steps ahead than him, chatting loudly with no care as if there’s only the two of them in that place. Then, Tony has slowed down his pace and sits on an empty bench which Stephen follows right after he’s close enough.

There, Tony turns his head only to realize how the brown locks of Stephen’s hair have turned a bit curly on the tip, resting peacefully on the top of his forehead, which then, he has tugged unconsciously while the man’s rambling about how boring his college life was without him. Stephen hisses painfully ( _“what the fuck was that for?”_ ) his hand goes to the sore spot, glaring at the grinning man in front of him who’s trying his best to stifles a laugh. When Stephen’s about to grasp his wrist, Tony has already run away from him, high-pitched laugh filled the contentment between them.

(Later, Stephen has caught him with red cheeks and sweat beads on his forehead.)

In near downtown, they have gotten themselves a perfect gelato in which wasn’t their first intention because Stephen was actually planning on buying them a _real_ food because he knew that Tony hadn’t eaten since the plane landed, but after seeing the amount of grease in the pork sandwich from the previous food truck, Stephen has mentally winced at himself and dragged Tonoy away from it, decides to settle with an ice cream parlor.

“What have you got?” Tony manages to ask him after they’re out of the building.

Despite the sweetness that spreads on his tongue, Tony finds himself grimacing at the new odd flavor, not being used to the combined flavor between saltiness and a hint of bitterness, which has been sticking at the back of his mouth since his tongue had made a contact with gelato. He always sticks with the old and classic vanilla one, ever since he was a kid, and he should’ve just agreed to what Stephen had said earlier ( _“yeah, what if we just stick to the usual? I have a feeling you won’t like those, Tony,”_ ) and he’s abso _–fucking–_ lutely right.

Sometimes he hates how Stephen’s always right.

“Strawberry and Cream,” his bestfriend answers with a slight nod, “why?”

“Do you wanna try mine? It’s good.” 

Seeing the look and the mirth in his eyes, Stephen raises an eyebrow. “Yeah, no, I know you’re trying to switch flavor with mine.”

“What? No, I like this one!” he takes a big lick on the ice-cream, but cringing afterward, feeling the thick and odd taste on the tongue, “ _eugh—_ yeah fuck, okay, busted,”

Staring at the man, then, Stephen sighs defeatedly, “okay, take mine, here.”

“You sure?”

“You wanna make me rethink my decision?”

Nodding his head in acknowledgment, Tony says, “uh-huh, no.” Then, for some reason, he looks at him with a dazzling smile, as if Stephen has brought him a casket full of shiny gold and jewelry, as if he has brought him the whole constellation in the universe, presented them at his feet, “thank you.”

He never knows that such a simple act like switching an ice cream can make him smile like that, happy and stunning like that. The one that can make him dizzy and high in daze, cheeks turning pink with a hint of redness in his high cheekbones because Stephen is pale and in love like that. Still so deeply and madly in love with Tony Stark, even after everything. So fucking deeply in love with him even though he already has Catherine waiting at his apartment.

And realizing the _so-and-very_ little chance he has from the possibility of having Tony returning his feeling.

But one thing he knows: Stephen wants to keep him happy.

“Yeah, sure,” he croaks, embarrassed to find how unstable his voice is.

While Tony’s happily scooping and digging into Stephen’s ice cream, his Chocolate and Sea Salt one lays pitifully in the trash bin, Stephen has found himself rubbing his face, trying not to take all these things as something romantic.

Romantic as in: a date.

At that, Stephen mentally shakes himself out of the daze, stomps his way out of Tony’s personal space, drifts past a child with a hotdog in both of his hands. When he glances at Tony, challenging himself to not fall further to the void, he’s still pretty much in deep bonding with the ice cream, smiling every time the taste lingers on his tongue.

(Stephen definitely wants to keep him happy.)

And, Tony.

Tony’s not aware of his surroundings, still pretty much invested in his ice-cream.

The sweetness of a strawberry combined with a thick and smooth taste of a cheese cream has filled Tony’s mouth, leaving the trail of the rich texture of milk that makes him giddy. With a perfect amount of sour yet not overly tart and _creamy._ Strawberry and Cream: dare he says, is the best flavor that probably ever exists. The taste that defeats chocolate mint ice-cream and regretfully puts it in second place. He sends his personal thank-you to the person who invented this genius flavor.

Perhaps Stephen was right, he should’ve stuck with the old and gold flavor.

“Anyway... remember Steve? Steve Rogers?” Tony licks away the remnants of the ice cream off of his fingers, sucking it until it makes a sound before then, throwing away the cup to the nearest bin. “The blond one that asked me to the dance? He’s like all _muscles_ and always wore tight white shirt—” 

“Yeah, Tony, I _know._ ”

Stephen tries to conceal the annoyance out of his tone but failing at the first attempt, luckily his bestfriend is too far away to realize, busy jumping from one to the other stepping stone, balancing himself with both of his arms stretches out to his side.

“What about him?” Stephen asks.

“Okay, uh, I don’t really remember when—I think it’s like a month ago, but anyway, we accidentally met while I was helping Pepper in the store and we talked and...” Tony pauses to turn his body, now facing Stephen fully, giving him a look: like hesitation and anticipation and somehow Stephen feels the dismay blooming like a plague in his chest, “now, I have his number.”

“What?” He asks in disbelief, after everything dawns upon him. Jealousy is fast and already replacing the fear inside him, switching places in one motion. “I mean, like— _uh—_ ” swallowing, he lets out a nervous huff, “w–why now?”

“Well, you have a girlfriend and I mean, I’m not getting any younger, too. So, why not?” he shrugs.

This, is what Stephen has been dreading for.

Heart goes to the throat, then, drops to his stomach, buries in acid.

“Yeah, but why _him?_ ”

He hasn’t realized he’s freezing on his spot, legs glued to the ground until Tony approaches him, with an expression that he doesn’t like: something close to unsureness, doubt. With his bottom lip traps between his teeth.

“Turned out he’s not that much of a jerk, and... he also loves kids,” Tony shrugs carelessly, then, “Peter already met him anyway.”

His whole body stiffens.

“ _What?_ When?” The sting that follows after starting to make his mouth turns bitter with hatred, turning the whole thing grey. Not knowing how to react to the news, he steps back and sighs, “why I didn’t know about this?”

“I—I don’t know that you want to know, Steph... I mean it’s not that important and my love life has always been one big mess, and it never really worked out, so, I thought it will be useless.”

Stephen retracts himself, disappointed, hurt. “Tony, you _promised—_ ”

“I know, Steph! I—” Tony darts his way back hastily to Stephen who’s still so many steps behind him, ”No, hey, Steph, listen—I’m sorry, please—hey, let’s not talk about these, okay?” the glasz eyes find his brown one, warmth spreading from Tony’s palm to Stephen’s wrist, grounding. “Don’t talk about Steve or even Peter, as much as I love that boy, God, can you believe it that he’s five? I keep saying that because I still can’t believe it—but anyway, just enjoy this day because this is our day!”

Sighing, Stephen stares at him. “I’m still upset with you.”

“Yeah okay how about we think a perfect name for our day? _Oh-oh!_ I think I have one...”

“Yup, no—”

“ _The Adventure of Stark and Strange!_ ” he exclaims, arms stretching wide to his side, “or, _Stark Strange_ with dash between our name? Wait, that actually sounds good, too! What do you think?”

“That’s lame,” Stephen shakes his head in amusement, taking that as the sign for him to leave.

“Fuck you, Strange.”

He turns, raising his eyebrows challengingly. “Is that an offer, Stark?”

That has earned him a dropped-jaw and a playful punch on the shoulder – which is definitely hurts – that makes him groan in pain, as Tony fleets himself away out of the scene, giggling when Tony catches the pain across his bestfriend’s face.

The man can’t help but beams at the sight in front of him: Tony wandering around happily on the park right in front of Harvard University. The grass is still green like the last time he saw it which is a year ago. Since he graduated, he hasn’t really come to this place as much as he used to. Stephen is still busy doing his internship to even take a look at his old university.

Stephen doesn’t wanna rush everything.

Although Catherine keeps on reminding him about how fast everything can change in a year and that he should get a job because he’s getting older and _yadda yadda yadda_ (he was losing his interest after the fifth word and then, muted the rest.) Stephen knows he’s still young. Then, knowing that he still has Tony on his side, young and happy and _Tony,_ makes him want to enjoy his late adolescence with him while it last, filling it to the brim until finally focusing himself on the job. 

Looking around the park, peaceful, filled with tranquility in the air, it brings something pleasant inside of him. A soft and solid reminder of the old-time; of hectic schedules then, sometimes carelessly letting his mind wander about Tony and Peter.

All things that follow after that, is filled with happiness and joy – humming lowly inside Tony’s chest which brings a new wave of pleasure in him. After laying around in the park for almost an hour, they go to find another food. This time, Tony successfully convinces his bestfriend to buy a pulled pork sandwich complete with the melted cheese ( _“can you add one more cheese, please?”_ ) and the grease and the smell of excess oil lingering in the air.

But it has made a smile on Tony’s face widens.

So: it _is_ worth it.

Everything is fine until they reach Stephen’s apartment, and being greeted with Catherine’s cheerful tone, the engagement ring glinting under the light of their apartment, apparent to their eyes and: Tony’s stunned expression, face devoid of emotion.

At that moment, Stephen can feel everything he has built falling apart at his feet.


	4. “Love, Stephen.”

Tony hates this.

This is not how he expects everything gonna ends.

Well, he doesn’t know which one is better but _definitely_ stuck in an unknown luxurious-looking hall with crowds is not how he expects it to be. He tries his best to not sneer as a woman with short silk dress eyes him up and down with disgust as if he’s something unnatural that doesn’t belong in this place. _Look at the dress, huh, how posh is that_ , Tony mocks silently, crosses his arms, defensive while glaring at the woman who, thankfully, decides to leave from his sight.

Tony has to suppress his disappointment as his eyes land on the tall figure in the corner of the room – _Stephen_ – who has his right arm resting on the woman’s waist next to him. (He’s aware with the jealousy boiling inside him.) _This is weird_ , he thinks. Looking at the suit Stephen wears and the simple dark plaid and pair of jeans he wears – the contrast is so apparent. Tony starts to think maybe the woman’s disgust look does prove a point. Glancing at him, Stephen catches his gaze right away, gives him a half-hearted smile and Tony knows. He _knows_. He knows that he shouldn’t be here; because, God, he’s in the middle of _something_.

 _For fuck sake,_ he literally just found out about his bestfriend’s engagement hours ago, over a really awkward greeting which led into an _awkward_ dinner with them while talking about things that he couldn’t catch up. The heavy pressure he had felt since his eyes landed on the ring, glimmering and glinting like an expensive diamond, has come up and almost makes him bites his tongue down.

He doesn’t belong here. 

The way his feet work on their own accord is almost shocking but not surprising, holding his breath as the breeze hits his face. Once he’s stomped his way out from the building and somehow manages to graciously dodge away at the woman at the entrance, the burden on his shoulders lessens a bit. 

“ _Tony!_ ”

Inhales sharply, the sound of his name settles in his mind, piercing into his heart like prick of needles. His steps don’t falter at the familiar voice, but he does take a quick glance and see that Stephen is exactly behind him, jogging lightly in the fitting suit. Stephen is fast on his feet.

(Somehow, Tony feels like drowning.)

“Tony,” suddenly Stephen stands in front of him, panting, hair disheveled with his cheeks turning cherry red – perhaps from the sudden cold. Even in this such situation, Stephen dares to look pretty when Tony’s heart is breaking on his fault. “Where are you going?”

“Home.” Tony snaps, trying his best to keep his emotions bottled up. “By that, I mean, my house where I live with my son. Not the fancy hotel you booked for me.”

“What? Tony, you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m _peachy._ ” He turns, confirming Stephen’s doubt by glaring at him which makes him even more confused because: he is definitely not peachy. There’s a frown between his eyebrows that Stephen wants to smoothen out, and the hurt in those hazel eyes brings a sting inside his chest he never knows existed.

“You’re lying.”

“Yeah, and you know what, I can't be here. I _shouldn’t_ be here. I—I barged into something here, Stephen, I feel like— _fuck_ —I was standing there completely clueless of what it was around me! Everyone was wearing a fucking suit and I was only in this plaid and jeans! I didn’t know that we’re gonna be attending some fancy gala because all I expected is both of us having fun and not doing this stupid shit. And let’s not forget about earlier, when you didn’t even tell me about Catherine, your fucking _fiancée!_ For God s—does she even know that I was coming here?”

“Yes, Anthony!”

“And earlier you were mad at me because I didn’t tell you about Steve,” he utters angrily under his breath.

Stephen tries to not pull his hair off. “Because it’s _Steve!_ ”

“What’s with you and Steve anyway? I mean he looks like an asshole, yes, but he’s nice—”

“ _Fucking nice, my ass,_ ” Stephen growls, blood boiling and rushing into his head. Then, he ruffles his hair frustratedly. “Listen, let’s talk about it later. Now can we go back inside? I swear it won’t be long.”

At that, Tony scoffs in disbelief.

Hurt flashes across his face.

“Going back to that fucking event where these _richass_ people look at me like I’m some homeless man? No, thank you,” Tony refuses, pursing his lips into a thin line. “I’d rather stay here than going back to that. I mean, come on! _What the fuck is this, Stephen?!_ ” he hisses, “this isn’t you! You wouldn’t do something like this! You’ve changed!”

The words taste like acid.

(Yet, that’s the truth.)

Stephen looks startled but he recovers almost immediately. “Okay, well, so, what if I did, huh?” he challenges, stepping forward and invading his space. “What if studying at Harvard, moving here had changed me into a better person. I’ve become a person who will do anything for someone whom I _love_ and—”

“No! _No,_ Stephen! This _is_ madness! These whole fucking things are a _giant madness!_ ” Tony shouts, voice high and matches Stephen’s. “You hide things from me when we clearly have already promised not to, you became a fucking arrogant asshole, y-you—you became this person that I don’t recognize anymore! You’re a _mess!_ ”

“A mess?” Stephen repeats, venom starts creeping up to his tongue as he licks his lips.

The rage simmers in him, hot and virulent. “Okay, Tony, let’s see...”

There’s something in his tone that makes Tony wants to take a careful step back, heart attempting to drop to his stomach and breaking in an instant. The look he gives is not helping. He has somehow silently prayed for him to stop, yet Stephen continues: “I have a stable life with such wonderful and supportive parents, a nice apartment, a decent job with decent money, an amazing and beautiful fiancée, whom I love and will marry pretty soon, then when we have kids, they will have two parents, ain’t _one!_ ”

Beyond word, Tony falls silent.

His heart feels as if it has stopped pounding, eyes wide, still trying to register those words inside his head. Everything’s happen in slow motion. As slow as molasses in January. Then, his lungs forcing the air through the trachea, to his parted mouth like he has been holding his breath underwater. 

Follows with a horrible and haunting sense of regret broods in Stephen. 

Everything seems so quiet for all of sudden, deafening and it rings in Stephen’s ears so loud he has to blink several times to make sure he’s still breathing. And when his gaze falls to the man in front of him, he knows what just happened. Stephen fucks up. Watching Tony’s bright eyes as realization fluttered through them, filling in slowly and turning those hazel eyes into eyes that filled with emotion he’s unfamiliar with: hurt, crestfallen, disappointment – heartbreak.

Vision blurry, faded around the edges.

(Everything’s blurry.)

Tony only stares at him, still reeling from the sudden rush of words that come hits him at once while all he can do is to watch those eyes turn glassy, shining with fresh tears. Words of forgiveness are on the tip of Stephen’s tongue and they taste heavy and thick and too late. He’s too late. Stephen cannot take back what he has said.

“You know she’s dead, right? That’s a _fucking_ low blow.” 

The way his voice turns into a cracked-whisper shatters Stephen’s heart.

And at that, Stephen makes a mistake by glancing at him. Those emotions he encounters previously are now much more apparent, combined with the unshed tears, pooling inside the mocha eyes, glimmering.

They have fought a lot in the past, whether it’s merely the different opinions or misunderstanding between them, it always ends up with a lot of cuddles, seeking each other’s warmth and whispering comforting words afterward. Both men are stubborn and hot-headed, their words always cut... but never like this.

Never like this.

(Stephen fucks up.)

“Is this your way telling me that I am a bad parent for Peter? I mean—” Tony chokes, “she wasn’t my girlfriend, we’re not even a close friend but _fuck—_ if I can choose, I’d prefer her to be alive and to take care of Peter instead of me.” His gaze turns bitter and sad as he exhales through his mouth, “Peter deserves someone better as his father. Someone who’s mentally stable but the thing is I didn’t choose to have this life!”

A great wave of sorrow seized on him.

Shakes him to the core, grim and sullen like the one Tony wears on his face.

“Tony,” he reaches out, tries to grab him by the wrist to stop all the mess in one with a flick of a finger – if he can, he would even rewind the time – but Tony draws his hand back and slaps it in the process as soon as it makes a contact with him.

The look on his eyes has changed.

That sadness are now fully altered into anger and pain.

(Mostly pain.) 

“Just so you know, _Strange._ ” Stephen tries not to flinch at his last name being mentioned. “Harvard did accept me as their student. I even keep the letter with me, because sometimes I like to think about what could’ve happened if I didn’t do all these. But, Peter needs me...” his voice breaks, “and Maya’s dead and I could be fucking stubborn and give him up for adoption, but I—I couldn’t. I want to—I want to prove to Howard that I can and, _will_ be a better father than him.

“And yes, you were right: I am a mess, my father beat me up since I was a kid, traumatized me for years, then, I accidentally knocked up a chick who I barely knew which also ruined my future in the process. Now with all these... compared to you, I am _nothing._ But you know what? After what happened today,” Tony motions to his surroundings, to Stephen who looks at him with emotion he cannot name of. Tony looks at him lips wavering as he exhales, “now I’ve come to realize that not going to Harvard with you... was the _best_ choice I've ever made.”

“Anthony, c’mon, please—”

“No, you proved your point.” His jaw set, avoids blinking his eyes rapidly so that the tears won’t trickling down to his cheeks. The last thing he wants Stephen to know is how fragile he is, weak and _helpless._ “Hope you have fun climbing on that greasy pole, Strange. Just don’t come to me when you finally realize that you‘re empty inside.”

With that, Tony leaves.

Bringing all the shattered part of his heart along with him.

(And, Stephen lets him.)

***

Heartbreak tastes sour.

Lingering in his tongue just like the aftermath of biting into a slice of lemon after bravely (or, rather dumbly) gulping down a vodka, with a hint of bitterness barely leaving his tongue. Hurtful, like when a four-year-old-Tony Stark had his first fall on the playground, tripping over his own feet because Stephen had offered him to play with him after school. The scraps weren’t that bad but he was crying a little, teardrops hanging on his eyelashes.

Hurtful: like Stephen’s words yesterday, cutting him right across his chest. Turning him blue and green and grey, that’s Stephen’s eyes.

Glacial blue, like the sadness wavering in his eyes.

And green and dreary exactly like Stephen’s words, turning his stomach upside down.

Then lastly, grey: as his world.

It has been months since that happened. And yet, here he is, making no progress as he lets out a sigh of frustration. Tony has tried to move one, not even looking back to the triggering incident that left him crying in the hotel room for two hours before he finally took off back to his hometown.

There’s nothing left there for him.

Stephen has broken his heart.

“Yup, no more of that in my store.”

Blinking away his daze, Tony looks up, unfocus, “huh?”

“See? You’re not even listening.” Pepper points out, a stack of old magazines on her arms, ready to go to the boxes for the cover to be torn off and returned to the distributor. “Your sadness has made my costumer go away.”

“Sorry...” Tony mutters sullenly, apologetic.

“How’s Steve?”

“Fine.”

“That’s it? God, you’ve dated for months and that’s all you’ve got?” Pepper sneers, teasing the dark-haired man still buries his head behind his arms pathetically. It makes her sighs anguishedly, “okay, that’s it. Listen, Tony, Stephen broke your heart, I get it, but it’s his loss,” the last word has made Tony peers at her from his arms, exposing his face from its hiding place, “he _let_ you go; someone’s who’s strong and tough and amazing like you... and it’s not your fault, it’s his.”

And perhaps Pepper is right.

For seven months, he has wasted his time blaming himself for everything. Thinking that if he’s more understanding towards Stephen, open to the thought of being in a new place, and acknowledging the fact that Stephen would never be his from the start: all of these might never happen. Follows with the apprehension flowing in him, haunting his mind which leads him into thinking that he has been a bad friend for Stephen all these times.

Her words have woken up his conscious mind, Tony sighs in relief. “Thank you, Pep,”

“But just because I call Stephen an asshole, doesn’t mean that I like Steve better. There’s something shady with that guy okay. He’s too... _nice,_ ”

“And that is somehow a... bad thing?”

Giving him a look as if she’s offended, Pepper then has her arms on her waist. “It is!”

“Whatever,” he rolls his eyes, amused with their antics.

The air between them is content, and Tony feels relief flowing through him like water. When he takes a glance at Pepper, he knows she feels the same, face radiant with glamour of youth, glowing. Can’t help but feel emotional, he adds: “really, though, Pep... _thank you,_ ”

“Of course, Tony,” she throws him a warm smile, “now get up and help me in the stockroom.”

“Yes, Miss Potts.”

***

Everything moves fast.

A month turns into a year.

Then, two.

Three,

Four.

And Peter is nine years old now. Old enough to lecture back his father wherever he makes mistake such as forgetting to put the lunchbox into Peter’s backpack. Definitely, old enough to groan in annoyance when Tony takes away his phone and asks him to do his homework. 

Whilst, Steve’s presence in their life is almost shocking but not in an odd way because now he can see. The bond between he had made with Tony’s son. And the fact that he easily settles into their life, getting used to their weird dynamic and daily habit. From his half-dried shirt hanging in the back of Tony’s bathroom (“it was wet because Peter splashed me with dishwater, I swear,”) until he moved half of his clothes into his closet. To Peter’s obsession with strawberries (“no, Steve, please one more, just one more then, I’ll stop, I swear!”) to Tony’s high demands on sexual activities. 

Tony’s also getting used to everything. Not remembering the anniversaries, the birthdays and all the Christmases they had gone together since they first dated.

Until, Steve pops the question.

Not over a special candle-lit romantic dinner or a post euphoric moment after sex, skin covered in sweat with their lower parts barely concealed under the sheet.

They’re watching a sitcom in the living room, Tony’s head on his chest, the beating of his heart loud and steady and _thump-thump-thump._ And Peter’s already asleep, too tired after building Legos all day and running around in the playground with his new friends. A soft voice speaks up. The voice from the man beside him who has been caressing his hair softly, _lovely._ And when those words settle inside Tony’s mind, his hand hasn’t faltered a bit.

“Do you wanna marry me?”

It takes him a solid two seconds to realize the blond man has somewhat turned his head to his direction, face soft with fond. The television is low and faint in the background, he ignores everything, focusing his eyes on what he has in front of him.

And Tony, he’s not ready.

He’s never ready.

He wasn’t ready when Howard’s rough hand landed across his cheek, pushing his body to the side abruptly, almost hitting the coffee table. Or, when the news came: about Maya’s pregnancy which later turned bitter after knowing her death. About Stephen’s engagement. The one that probably has broken him the most. And then, this.

It’s not because he doesn’t love Steve. Tony does.

Although there are times where he thinks that these feelings he has inside are merely temporary and one day he will be stepping away from them, brush them away as if it never exists in the first place. But after this, he knows how deep he is inside. How everything has changed, has moved forward too fast he has lost track.

Face slackened, heart frantically thumping loudly in his chest as the rush of every emotion comes into his head. There are too many things happening at once and he’s overwhelmed. “Steve—”

And if Steve feels a bit of disappointment when Tony says that instead of answering it with an excited tone, he’s good at hiding it. “You don’t have to answer it right away, I understand if you want to—”

It’s been four years.

Four years of yearning the love he knows he’ll never get.

Drinking into the sight that’s Steve Rogers, he mentally nods.

“Yes.”

“What?”

“Yes. I said, yes.”

Steve has kissed him there, soft yet sensual.

(The void in his chest stays.)

***

The wedding invitation has been spread out because since the incident it feels as if Tony hasn’t gotten any patience left inside him. Steve has somehow convinced him to even send one to Stephen, although Tony has refused and told him that there was no use to it.

The truth is: he wants for everything to get done with.

Tony’s happy.

A little voice in his head tells him that he will be happy once he’s married to Steve, has the silver band placed snuggly around his ring finger. 

But there’s something inside him that contradicts what his mind is saying. Telling him that the wedding is what he does out of spite because Stephen has hurt him in the past and he thinks by doing this, marrying the man that Stephen hates with his whole life, will hurt him in any way possible. Make him feel what Tony’s feeling all these years, buried in remorse and guilt and constant disappointment.

Even now, the thought of him has made him drag his feet as he comes to the front door to retrieve his letters. One letter has caught his eyes, with a familiar name written over in a sloppy cursive of a doctor, opening an old wound.

“Stephen,” he breathes out, mouth dry.

There’s not even a single thought hovers his head on the possibilities why his bestfriend sent him a letter and not an e-mail or a text. The letter’s being torn away hastily in less than a second. His heart jumps under his ribcage, plummeted to his throat as his mocha eyes catch a sliver of the paper inside. His eyes move rapidly back and forth as he takes in everything.

His hands have shaken at some point. Eyes scanning away through the writing, blurry from tears. And perhaps even missing out some words, leaving the unimportant one for later.

Tony passes an: “I am sorry for everything,”

Moving forward only to find his breath being held over: “I broke up the engagement. Turned out you were right, I wasn’t being myself, Tony,” and then, chokes up at the rest,

“...you deserve someone who loves you and I’ve been denying myself for that position because I am your bestfriend who happens to be an arrogant asshole that keeps annoying the fuck out of you and breaks your heart,” he reads the letter under his breath, chuckling despite the tears that uninvitedly has come to the surface, “I have no intention to ruin your relationship... but I love you, Anthony and I feel like we’ve been walking around avoiding this, avoiding our feelings. So please, rethink your decision. Tell me if you feel the same, I’ll be waiting,”

Breath of burden being exhaled, then: 

“ _Love, Stephen..._ ”


	5. Tale of Loving You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, it has come to an end.
> 
> The truth is, I had this draft for so long but I thought it was too forced, so I decided to re-write it. Thank you for those people who has waited patiently for this fic, has read through all of the chapters, has given me supports and comments and kudos. I love you all, so fucking much. Thank you!

The wedding happens in an hour. And the anxiety in his chest hasn’t died down, which worsens the situation even more. His heart has been pounding since the morning he opened his eyes, jumping inside his chest and he almost thinks that he’s gotten himself a cardiac arrest. What followed after that is the solid realization hitting him like a truck ( _“fuck, I’m getting married,”_ ) but then again, Tony doesn’t know why it feels off. Like everything is out of place, wrong. The one feeling where you put the piece of a puzzle into a wrong place, despite the shape and look is almost suitable, that piece wouldn’t fit.

Numbness in his hands hasn’t left, and each time his mind wanders off there, the feeling somehow gets bigger and wider, expands into a larger size. Everything happens so fucking fast and it’s been four years. It’s been four years of waiting and _hurting_ and all that happening over and over again. It’s like Tony’s in a fucking loop. He knows that it is his chance to get out from that loop, to break free. But the way the void in his chest hasn't left gives him another series of anxiety. 

So far, he hasn’t bitten his nails off, although the thought is really tempting.

He also hasn’t choked himself from the lack of oxygen he has been getting. Tony considers it a win.

“Dad?”

His thought crumbles away at the voice of his son calling him out, Tony blinks his surprisingly dry eyes until they focus on the small figure standing in front of the door, leaning on the doorframe. “Peter?” he gets up, approaching his son with confusion all over his face. “I—What’re you doing here? You okay? You need something?”

“Nothing... just wanna see you.” Peter shrugs, closing the door behind him whilst Tony gives a blank, deadpan look at his son because Peter is in that stage of age where he loves to make his dad worried. Tony’s blank look is responded with a frown matching with his, _offended,_ and, “what—? I can’t see my own father on his wedding day?”

The man sighs heavily, hands itch to ruffle his son’s hair. “Of course you can, Pete, but you’re not supposed to be in here.”

Carefully, Tony sits on the couch presents in the room, trying his best to not ruin the wedding suit so that he can avoid Pepper lecturing his ears off about it. With the amount of mixed emotion in his chest, his right hand unconsciously goes up towards his hair, but then he closes his fist so it will hit his forehead, giving it an awkward tap and an odd look from his son while Tony brushes it off with a grunt, clearing his throat as if he’s about to cough.

Peter huffs in amusement. “Yeah, and you’re not supposed to _sulk_ on your wedding day.” 

That has caught Tony off guard, makes him stops everything he has been doing as he whips his head to the direction where Peter stands in the room. Tony opens his mouth but finds it empty with the lack of words, then he says, _“I’m not,”_ at the same time a knowing smirk forming on his son’s lips which makes him huff in annoyance. “I’m... nervous,”

“Sure, dad.” That earns a glare from Tony and the young boy brushes that off with a shake of his head which disappears as soon as it comes without his dad knowing, then, hesitantly he sits down next to him. 

There’s an air, thick and stubborn in the room.

Peter knows.

Of course, Peter _knows_ everything.

Well, definitely not everything. But there’s one thing he knows for sure, is that his dad doesn’t want to get married. To be specific: his dad doesn’t want to be married to Steve. Peter knows that. Despite the calm face and tough look, there’s a doubt laying underneath, and those bright eyes filled with uncertainty and a slight of fear every time Peter gazes in it.

Peter is hesitant at first, perhaps what he sees is nothing but a thin layer of fear of being in a whole new level of relationship. He knows how hard marriages can be, he himself has seen those with his eyes. Watches how the marriages of his friend’s parents crumbling apart and there’s nothing that the kid can do about it. Of Michelle Jones and her permanent frown every Tuesday as she walks down the corridor and meets her dad, or Flash Thompson stubbornly walking out of the car while his mother calling his name from the car, doesn’t have enough care to go out and chase for her son.

His father is still young.

There’s still a lot of things he can do, and with Peter on his side, everything is fine. Perfect, even.

His dad doesn’t need a marriage to make everything special. Peter has seen how his dad looks at Steve, the smiles, and the laugh. But Peter also has seen how his dad looks at Stephen Strange. His dad has a different kind of happy expression when Stephen Strange is around. (Peter dares to say that his dad is _smitten_ towards the man.) Or how he stared longingly at the video Stephen had sent him on Christmas, a small quirk on the corner of his lips as he giggled at the screen.

Stephen hasn’t been around lately – which is weird, because Peter always sees him, although it’s just sometimes those visits are in a form of video through emails or beautiful letters with Stephen’s handwriting and gifts attached on it.

Peter might not know everything, but he knows Stephen is _everything_ to his dad.

(And that something has happened between them.)

“You know, it’s not too late to change your mind, dad.”

The boy doesn’t make any sound as he takes in his father’s face, takes in every one of his expressions, his movements. The long pauses his father takes, the abrupt motion in the fiddling of his fingers on his lap, the nervous bounce on his leg that has stopped all of the sudden, the hitch of his breath as his dad’s gaze flickers towards him and lastly, the confused blinks ( _“one... two, three, four—! Four blinks!”_ ) that he gives.

“But—I thought you like Steve.”

Shuffling closer to his dad, he says, “Well, if you put it that way... I like Stephen more.”

Tony only stares at him.

Up close like this makes Tony realizes a couple of things. That Peter Benjamin Stark, his son, has four dots of freckles on his forehead, or to be more precise, they were located right above the end of his left eyebrow, faint and barely there, but _exist._ And also, that Peter _knows._

Peter knows that he doesn’t want to be married. Not to someone he doesn’t love.

And Tony cannot – isn’t able to – say anything.

Because: Peter knows.

(And he understands.)

At the silence his dad gives him, Peter adds, “You deserve someone who truly loves you... someone who has been with you since day one, and I mean like _really_ really day one, dad. And we both know, it’s Stephen. But again, the choice is in your hand. I just... I just want to see you happy.”

 _“Oh, Peter.”_ Tony sighs, feeling tears start pooling in his eyes. He knows perhaps it’s wrong to talk about his love life to his son but then again, he doesn’t have anyone at the moment. There’s no way he leaves the room just to see Pepper and asks for her opinion. So, he continues, “But we had a fight when I visited him and he kind of—he _broke_ my heart.”

Peter looks at him, eyes soft. “And you’ll forgive him... like you always do.”

It brings back everything.

Tony sighs as he remembers those times where he and Stephen had their fights.

The fights where he could only feel rage flowing through his blood, mad and hot. His conscious filled with red anger as Stephen raised his voice, with both feet planted on the ground and Tony had his pacing around the room, hurt but refused to give up.

Matching high notes, hot on their heels as Tony – _it’s always Tony_ – rushed out. He always thought that if he left, then the fights would stop and they would go back into the time before those ever happened, pretended that they never even raised their voice in the beginning. But he should’ve known that Stephen Strange was raised in a stable family with good communication. He was taught to not run away from problems.

(Unlike Tony.)

“You right,” nodding his head in response, Tony glances at his son, _certain._ It still baffles him that Peter doesn’t resemble any of Maya’s features, even his personalities are more of a mix between him and Stephen – who hasn’t had any blood relation to him at all. Sighing, he has a fond look in his eyes this time, “I don’t deserve you, Pete.”

“Shut up, dad.” Despite what he said, Peter has his arms wrapped around his father’s neck, feeling himself tearing up at his father’s words, but the happiness soars in his chest at his dad’s expression, so he decides to focus on that one instead. “So? Are you gonna stay or are you chase your prince?”

“The real question is, can I buy the ticket on the spot?”

Peter laughs.

With that, Tony ruffles his hair, and this time, instead of huffing in annoyance, Peter only throws him a delighted laugh as Tony takes everything he needs and what he thinks important to him, and leaves. Adrenaline runs high in his blood as he secretly runs through the back door, and looking for a taxi nearby. Peter Stark is officially his favorite person the universe. Because not only he's smart to talk it out of him which Tony thinks as a brave action from him that makes him almost half sure that his son got that from Stephen from an early year when Stephen was still visiting him every year.

Tony hasn’t had the time to change his clothes.

The sudden joy has overwhelmed him in to the point where his mind only focuses on getting to the airport as soon as possible. He feels sorry for Steve. He really does. Because yes, Tony loves the man but he knows that he wouldn’t be happy with him. Tony cannot live in another lie where it always makes him suffer. He decides, at the time where Peter told him, that he has enough suffered. His whole life has been roughly based on a lie.

As his steps come closer to the airport, doubt settles back in his mind, haunting. Thought of Stephen changing his mind last minute, weighing his option about Tony and realizes that he’s not worth it – that Tony is never worth it – ruins his mind. His hands shake with adrenaline from the high activity he had previously and the nervous comes back ticking inside him. Perhaps he should go back. Perhaps he should just go back and go on with his life. The first time Stephen left him, in the same airport he is in right now, was the first sign that they are never meant to be. 

And Tony never stands a chance.

Tony hates himself for being such a coward. For not able to speak up about his feelings a long time ago, about how much he hates the girl Stephen had met in the library, about how much Tony wanted to kick her in the face ( _“doesn’t matter if she’s a girl, that bitch spits on me once when she found out that Stephen is bisexual. Blaming everything on me,”_ ) and just, about everything. Then again, it was the most righteous thing to do. Tony doesn’t want to ruin his friendship. Of course, now he has Pepper on his side, listening to his stupid and nonsense rambles but he doesn’t have anyone else besides Stephen back then. 

His doubt eating him once again, so he calls Pepper which earns an earful as soon as the call connects. She complains about the mad families ( _“his dad almost make a scene, Tony!”_ ) despite the fact that Rogers' never been one for violence and also, that he owes it to her.

“Stephen is in love with you, Tony, can’t you see?” Pepper exclaims, ready to tear her hair out of frustration.

Tony whines into the receiver. “But we’re _bestfriends!_ And what if—”

“No, Tony! _We,_ are bestfriend, okay?”

He blinks. “What?”

“Oh God, Tony... do you remember his girlfriend—? Well, _ex-girlfriend,_ now, but, I mean, Stephen has never talked about her and also, do you remember how was her hair, her features! She looked just like you! Brown eyes, dark hair... and also, his letter! He confessed to you about his feelings. That's a solid proof, Tony.” Tony sits quietly as he takes in Pepper’s words. “Stephen _loves_ you.”

That awakens something in him, like hope, but his uncertainty is still there, existing and eating him alive. With that, Tony only mumbles a quiet: “okay, thank you, Pep, talk to you later,” into the receiver.

Stephen Strange is _home._ He’s always been his home: Tony’s home.

And now, he has lost it because it’s his fault.

(It’s always been his fault.)

His feet are heavy as he takes off his suit jacket, suddenly feeling so overwhelmed, _torn._ Tony feels his chest tightens, tasting the bitter sadness on the tip of his tongue as he swallows. There’s a chance that Pepper is right – and she always has. About everything; about the letter, about Stephen’s ex-girlfriend. But that doesn’t mean that Stephen really loves him, right?

Tony has left him with no reply. There’s also a chance where Stephen gives up on him and moving on with his life. Looking at his watch: there’s still half an hour until the wedding starts. Perhaps he should go back, perhaps he should give up like all these times. The universe ( _“fuck you,”_ ) has shown him that Stephen is never his. Stephen has and will never be—

_“Anthony?”_

Tony has never whipped his head so fast, eyes drinking at the sight of a familiar man with dark curls, standing before him. _“Stephen?”_

There’s nothing can describe how he’s feeling right now.

It’s like the sadness from earlier combined with euphoria and confusion, _unexpected._ He opens his mouth but Stephen beats him to it.

“W-What’re you doing here? You’re supposed to— _your wedding?”_

At that, the rage he has buried down years and years comes back to the surface uninvited, feels like a truck hits him right in the face. Clenching his fist, Tony approaches him, “dumbass... _You dumbfuck!”_ Then, Tony proceeds to kicks him right on the shin, earning a painful yelp as Stephen clumsily takes a step away from the brunette with a confused-hurt look on his face.

 _“What the fuck?”_ He screams while still limping, one hand holding the painful spot. It’s so hard Stephen can feel the bruise blooming in right now. Their surroundings have taken an interest at them, some of them pass by and some of them pause to watch although not for long, but he doesn’t care. _“Why would you do that?”_

Tony flinches at Stephen’s painful wails. It feels as if someone has poured down a bucket of ice water over his head, waking him up from his manic state. “Sorry! Fuck, I—I need to let it out. I’ve been wanting to do that since I visited your place because you fucking broke my heart, Stephen!” He pants, “And then, you fucking sent me a letter, telling me that you love me and—I— _what the fuck you doing here?”_

This time, it’s Stephen’s turn to go still.

He opens his mouth but no words come out, and he proceeds to look Tony in his eyes (which is a wrong fucking move, Strange, what the fuck, how did his eyes get so bright and stunning, anyway?) and sighs defeatedly. 

“I was about to ask you... about your answer, before the wedding, because you haven’t given me anything.” He takes a glance at Tony and then, drops his gaze again. “You haven’t replied, no call either—I can’t,” Stephen sighs and this time, he really looks into Tony’s eyes, drinking into the sight of his best friend, with only one thing in his mind as he says, “ _I can’t let you go._.. even if I fail, and you marry Rogers, at least... at least I tried.”

The revelation comes into him like wave washes over him.

Tony doesn’t know when he starts crying, but he does whisper a soft: “fuck,” under his breath before surging forward to kiss Stephen, both palms go straight for his best friend’s face. His lips feel soft against his own, moves at a leisurely pace, though his heart frantically beating inside his chest. Stephen tilts his head, holding Tony closer by the waist with one hand while the other cups the back of Tony’s head.

And it should feel weird, right? It should have felt weird to kiss your bestfriend.

But it’s not.

Tony only feels the intense happiness and excitement blooming in his chest as they part, cheeks flushed and breathless. Eyes are almost crossed at the intense closeness, which makes him giggle as Stephen signs in contentment and brushes their noses together. “Should’ve done that sooner.”

Tony pecks him again, _one, two,_ seemingly can’t get enough of him, _three—_

“I agree.” The brunette mumbles, lips brushing against Stephen’s one, lingering.

At Stephen’s laugh, Tony's able to let himself breathe. He smiles at him with fond, chest almost bursts. “So, wanna get hitched?”

“Although it is tempting, I think we need to take it slow,” Stephen replies, “we don’t wanna give Pepper a heart attack, aren’t we?”

“Yeah,” Tony laughs because: yes, he doesn’t want to give Pepper a heart attack if he comes back and marries Stephen just like that, “yeah... you right.”

In his opinion, it is a wonderful idea.

Practically, Tony has known him for his whole life.

So, there’s no point in waiting. But then again, it’s always Stephen who comes up with great ideas and opinions, so he decides to shut up and listens. Tony doesn’t really care if they’re gonna get married or not. As long as he has Stephen by his side, he’ll be okay. They’ll be okay. His eyes get teary at the thought.

Then, he grabs Stephen’s face once again, _desperate._ “Fuck, _fuck—_ I love you, _so much,_ Stephen.”

“I know,” Stephen has a fond look in his eyes as he cups Tony’s jaw in one hand and says, “I love you, too, Anthony.”

Their lips meet once again.

At this moment, Anthony Edward Stark thinks: perhaps the universe isn’t that bad.


End file.
